Page 10 of The Lady's Guide to a Highlander’s Heart
The hound looked up at him with adoring eyes and gave his master’s hand an affectionate lick.
Flora frowned. How easily he spoke of his duties, as if they were fairly gotten rather than by black deed.
She crossed the room with her pails, emptying the milk into the waiting copper tub. “Ye wish me tae help ye wash, ma lord.” Though he appeared nonchalant, his blue eyes followed her intently.
A strange sensation passed through her. As Flora Dalreagh, no man had dared look with such obvious interest; at least, none but Calder. On the croft, she’d been treated as one of the family. To find herself made such a study of was unnerving. Nervously, she tucked her hair behind her ear, glad once more for the scarf.
“Aye, lass. That I do.” In one swift motion, Ragnall shrugged off the robe, revealing himself quite naked beneath.
A flush rose to her cheeks. She’d anticipated his nakedness but to bare himself so blatantly! Her inclination was to turn away but she refused to let him think her timid. He might think it amusing to flaunt himself before her but she wouldnae give him the pleasure of seeing her put out! Meaning to keep her eyes upon his face, she held her ground, staring straight back at him, but the rest of Ragnall Dalreagh proved too distracting to ignore.
She’d seen Maggie’s brothers bathe in the stream. A good ten years Ragnall’s junior, their slender bodies bore no resemblance to the man before her.
The hair which descended over his abdomen grew thicker at his groin and continued on his great thighs. As for what sprung between them, she’d had no idea a man’s member could be so thick, nor that it could be that ruddy colour. The bulging tip, glistening wet, was almost purple.
When she raised her eyes again, she found he was looking back, and smiling with a certainty of having his way that sent a jolt through her—anger, and something else. She wasn’t sure what exactly, but it made her pulse race.
“Ye may soap ma hair, lassie, and talk tae me if ye will.” He stepped into the tub, lowering himself until the milky water covered the parts Flora had been admiring.
Now was the time. He would have no idea of her intention until the knife plunged through his throat. She had only to summon her courage but, faced with her moment of action, her heart pounded. She must do more than merely pierce the skin. She must either open his throat entirely, or drive the blade deep through the sinew. Half measures would send him thrashing and crying out for help. He might easily wrench the weapon from her hand; might easily overcome her.
The dog, meanwhile, watched with curious eyes.
“I hope ye be settling, lass. ’Tis hard to be away from all ye know.” Dipping over, he cupped water generously upon his head. “The soap be on the side, if ye’ll be so kind.”
Curse him!
How could she end the man’s life when he was being so infernally polite—and with that great lummux of a dog gazing on?
Picking up the block laid upon the washcloth, she raised it to her nose, inhaling the scent of heather. She would do this, washing the man’s hair: a last act of respect before undertaking what she must. Meanwhile, she needed to remain calm—to do naught that might arouse his suspicion. “Aye, ’tis nae so easy being divided from those we love.”
And ye were the one to part me from my beloved father, ye villain!
Ragnall leant back against the rim and closed his eyes as she massaged across his scalp, then moaned when she pushed her thumbs into the base of his neck.
“Ye’ve a gentle touch, lass.” Sitting up again, he bent forward, the easier for her to wash through the suds.
Taking a small jug, she did so, and the rivulets ran across the hard muscles of his shoulders.
Moving further down, she leant forward. The next she knew, his thumb was grazing her nipple, dampening the linen of her smock.
In surprise, she jumped back. “What’re ye doing!”
He’d pushed the hair from his eyes and was looking at her through wet lashes. “I’m sure ye know, lass. I didnae bring ye here only to help me bathe. ’Tis company I need.”
He beckoned her closer. “I shallnae do aught against ye will. ’Twill be pleasure for us both, if ye but join me.”
“Join ye?” Flora's heart began to pound.
“Why, in the tub o’course.” Ragnall offered his smile again. “’Twill be a squeeze, but if ye sit astride, we may accomplish things to mutual satisfaction.”
Urgh! The man was insufferable! As if she’d gain pleasure from seeing to his carnal needs!
“I must tell ye, I’m shocked ye would suggest such a carry on.” Flora had little difficulty summoning her righteous indignation, though it did not escape her that, if anyone had a right to enjoy her body, it was the very man stretched out before her. “Ye should know, I’m saving myself for the marriage bed.”
Ragnall nodded gravely. “Yer sense o' virtue does ye credit but, if ye do decide tae let me love ye, and the good Lord sees fit tae send a bairn tae yer belly, I’ll take care of ye.”
A rush of fury rose from the pit of her stomach. So, that was the way it was. He took them to his bed and then placed his by-blows about the castle. On that score, half the children set to fetch and carry were likely his!
